


Fresh Meat

by midnight12181



Category: Glee
Genre: Age Difference, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight12181/pseuds/midnight12181
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freshman orientation was the biggest waste of time according to Sebastian Smythe. The presentation given by one of the soon-to-be seniors in the auditorium was lackluster at best, sounding like it was written by the Dean with all the talk of gentlemanly decorum and academic excellence.</p><p>Please Note: This fic will not be continued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr - sprinkwrites.tumblr.com
> 
> From GKM:
> 
> a fic where Sebastian is a freshman going to Dalton. An AU where Sebastian goes to Dalton and meets Hunter. Smaller Sebastian (But not a lot smaller/younger looking? idk, or he gets a growth spurt at some point) want: virgin Sebastian
> 
> Warnings: underage (Hunter is 16, Sebastian is 14)

Freshman orientation was the biggest waste of time according to Sebastian Smythe. The presentation given by one of the soon-to-be seniors in the auditorium was lackluster at best, sounding like it was written by the Dean with all the talk of gentlemanly decorum and academic excellence. He yawned, eyes rolling as the speaker mentioned that they would be broken off into small groups with a ‘mentor’ to show them around campus after lunch.

The lunch was passable - nothing compared to the fare at his school in Paris - and the boys who had chosen to sit with him weren’t terrible. Going to an all boys school was going to be different, but he would manage; it wasn’t like he spoke to many girls back home anyway. He opened his mouth to get in on the conversation they were having about soccer when he heard the doors to the dining hall open and someone start whistling.

The whistling was picked up by the new seniors that were milling about the room, and a handful of other boys came in the other two doors until there were 15 total boys whistling and starting to congregate near an empty side of the room. He knew the song, it was the opening to Whistle -  _how appropriate, since they’re whistling_ , he thought - but even as his brain processed that, he was nearly dumbstruck when a boy stepped out to the front of the group and started singing the song.

"Who is  _that_?” he gasped quietly, voice breaking on the last word. He didn’t even have the wherewithal to be embarrassed at his voice for betraying him at a crucial time in the development of the social pecking order.

"You don’t know?" the boy next to him whispered as the group of singing boys also started  _dancing_. And Jesus fucking Christ were they dancing. “That’s Hunter Clarington. He’s a junior. Captain of the swim team, the lacrosse team and the Warblers.”

Sebastian stared at Hunter like the older boy was god almighty stepping down from heaven. He was gorgeous: tall (Sebastian had, disappointingly, not had his growth spurt yet and still lingered around 5’7”), broad (Sebastian doubted he would ever get close to the width of the elder boy’s shoulders), and had the face of an aristocrat (Sebastian’s cheeks were still a little pudgy with babyfat he had yet to lose). He had eyes only for the obvious leader of the group, watching the way he moved and commanded the attention of everyone that wasn’t singing like nothing Sebastian had every experienced before.

“ _Oh my god, did he just do a backflip?_ " he gasped in French, watching the way the creature called Hunter Clarington effortlessly worked the gymnastic move into the choreography.

Once the song was done, Clarington stepped forward and addressed the room, his voice clear and carrying. “Welcome to Dalton, Freshman,” he said with a smirk, not even a little out of breath. “I’m Hunter Clarington, and we are the Dalton Academy Warblers. We’re sad to see our seniors depart for greener pastures, but wish them the best of luck in their endeavours.” He paused, waiting for a handful of the freshman to stop clapping. “This means there are five new spots open for any student, so if you are interested, please make sure you sign up to audition before the first week of classes end. We look forward to seeing you.” He took a deep bow, obviously enjoying the second round of applause the group received before they exited the dining hall.

Sebastian was still awestruck as their scheduled lunch came to an end, barely hearing the call to reassemble to break into their groups for the campus tour. He moved to stand, but realized that for the first time in his life, he had an inappropriate hard on.

_Shit_.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the first Friday of his freshman year at Dalton, and Sebastian had seen Clarington no less than twelve times since orientation. He saw him at lunch daily, laughing and joking around with the other Warblers at their lunch table. He saw him again at dinner, doing much of the same. He passed him in the hallways once as the older boy was headed towards swim practice, his gym duffel thrown over his shoulder, sans uniform but wearing an obviously older pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. He even saw him the one time Sebastian had decided to wake up early enough to attend breakfast, slight stubble on his face, hair sticking up every which way, wearing nothing but a pair of khaki shorts and a wife beater. It had taken everything Sebastian had not to throw himself at his feet and beg for even a sliver of his attention.

Shaking his thoughts free, he found himself continuing to stare at the club sign-up sheets on the bulletin board that had been set up temporarily in the main commons room. It was on the main floor of the building and larger than the individual class commons, able to hold more students as they waited to put their name on the dotted lines of various colourful papers hanging from it. Most students had already signed up for tryouts for the various extracurriculars, but Sebastian had been hemming and hawing about what exactly he wanted to do. He knew that his choices of clubs would affect his social status from that point forward, already pretty rocky since a) he was a freshman and therefore at the bottom of the proverbial totem pole and b) he was foreign and therefore considered weird when he accidentally slipped into French when talking to people.

"You look like you could fit in on the swim team," came a voice from behind him.

"I don’t swim," Sebastian answered without turning around.

"Don’t, or can’t?" The voice asked, rich like honey.

"I can, I just don’t like…" Sebastian started, rolling his eyes as he turned around to find Clarington standing behind him, a small smirk on his face. Hunter fucking Clarington was  _talking_  to  _him_. “ _Oh my god_ ,” he breathed, slipping into French without thinking.

“ _Your accent is flawless_ ,” Clarington answered in perfect French. Sebastian saw his eyes flash quickly over his body, and he had a small, internal freak out as he wondered, _Is he checking me out?_ "Freshman?" he asked, switching back to English as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

"Do I look like a freshman?" Sebastian answered, wanting to kick himself immediately after the words left his mouth. Leave it to him to default to snark and probably offend the guy who practically ruled the school.

This time, Sebastian was certain that Clarington was checking him out and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to blush at the scrutiny. “Kind of,” Clarington answered with an easy shrug and a small laugh. He changed the subject, much to Sebastian’s relief. “What are you thinking of signing up for? Lacrosse? You look like you’d be good at lacrosse. You ever played?”

"I, um, played at my old school," Sebastian said quietly, unable to take his eyes off Clarington’s mouth as it moved. What the hell was wrong with him? It was just a boy, asking what clubs he was thinking of signing up for. It was nothing to get flustered about. He glanced up at the older boy’s eyes, seeing him tilting his head expectantly towards the sign-up sheet. "I guess it couldn’t hurt to try out…" he mumbled, taking the pen that hung from the paper and signing his name in loopy, elegant script.

"The season doesn’t start until spring, but the team still practices throughout the fall. Dalton takes its extracurriculars very seriously," Hunter explained. "I would say, sign up for whatever you used to do at your old school and go from there." He paused, taking in Sebastian’s posture and demeanour. "I wouldn’t sign up for the Warblers, though. Unless you plan on getting rid of that whole shy schoolboy thing."

Without another word, Hunter Clarington turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Sebastian standing there exactly as he found him, staring at the bulletin board. A multitude of emotions rolled through Sebastian as he found himself frowning. He wasn’t shy. No one in his life would have ever called him ‘shy.’ He was only as reserved as he was because it was a new school, new  _country_ , and he was still getting used to not seeing the people he’d grown up with every single day. A flash of challenge rose in his chest, and he raised his pen again. He wrote his name across the sheet for the soccer team - mentally chastising the Americans for not calling it football like the rest of the world - and hovered over the final sheet for a moment before he threw caution to the wind and placed his name at the bottom. He turned and walked away from the board as calmly as he could, but his heart was still beating like he’d been running a marathon.

Warbler Tryouts (Page 3)

Bryce Reynolds  
Jeff Sterling  
Richard Austin, III  
Hugh Manning  
Rhys Piper  
 _Sebastian Smythe_


	3. Chapter 3

"And our last audition is…" Clarington announced to the mostly empty room. "… Sebastian Smythe."

Sebastian was a little irritated by the whole pomp and circumstance of the auditions. They’d insisted everyone who wanted to audition show up at once, cramming into the senior commons like sardines, rather than setting up times for smaller groups to come in and be less claustrophobic. Then, instead of going into some semblance of order, be it alphabetical or by grade level, they went right down the fucking list in the order of sign up. Once you did your audition, you were told either to come back for a second audition the next day, or dismissed with a pleasant smile and told to try out again next year. Really, Sebastian wondered if it was just a test to see who could handle the pressure of waiting.

It was 9:30 at night, half an hour until the dormers were supposed to be in their rooms, and Sebastian still had homework to complete for the next morning. He’d missed dinner, and because of that, he would probably end up running into a half-naked Hunter Clarington in the dining hall again for breakfast. As it was, Sebastian was just pissed off enough to not care about his inexplicable little crush on the older boy.

None of those who had gotten told they would receive a second audition chose to stick around - nor had those that were denied, understandably - so it was currently just ten other boys and him.

"I’ll be honest," Clarington added, making it sound almost as if it were an afterthought. "I didn’t think you’d have it in you, freshman." The other boys around him chuckled, and for a brief moment, Sebastian wondered if he’d told the Warblers about running into him at the sign-up board. No, there was no way. Sebastian was a freshman and therefore nigh invisible to people like Hunter Clarington.

"I can take whatever you can dish out," Sebastian grumbled.

"He’s got some fire, boys," Clarington chuckled, the other boys joining in lightly. He made a grand gesture, smirking at the smaller boy. "Show us what you’ve got."

Sebastian had agonized over what he would sing for his audition pretty much since he’d walked away from the sign-up sheet, but none of that mattered as he cleared his throat. Still angry at being kept for the entire afternoon, he met Clarington’s eyes as he licked his lips, inhaling deeply.

"The sun goes down, the stars come out…" he started, keeping the elder boy’s gaze as he made it through the opening of the song. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to a god he didn’t believe in that his voice didn’t waver or crack, and as he settled into the song, he felt his confidence swell. He only hesitated slightly when he heard the other boys in the room join in accompaniment, something they hadn’t done with any other audition.

All of them except one Hunter Clarington.

The junior kept that same small smirk at the corner of his lips, watching as Sebastian even threw in a bit of unrehearsed choreography. As the last note of the song rang clearly through the air, Sebastian’s chest heaving slightly in exertion, he still kept his eyes locked on Hunter’s. There was a silence then, no one speaking as everyone seemed to wait for the captain’s assessment. Without realizing it, Sebastian’s lower lip slid between his teeth slightly, biting down to try to release some of the tension.

Finally, Hunter stood, and he swore his heart stopped. Slowly, the elder boy raised his hands and started clapping. Sebastian released the breath he was holding, feeling his cheeks flushing in relief.

"Not bad, freshman," Clarington said. "Now come back in two days and do it again."

Sebastian couldn’t help the wide smile that broke across his face. He thanked everyone around him, then almost ran out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, he let out a small cheer of triumph before taking off in the direction of the freshman dorms.


End file.
